When I finally see the shadow figure of the mans face hovering over me, I realize I know that voice. I know that shadow. I look up with the little amount of muscles I can use, to see my big brother I haven't seen in years, laughing histerically at his joke about being my doctor. I wish I could give him a hug. I wish I could feel his muscle arms wrapping around me. Arms like dads.
"Bradyyyy!" As I hoarsely announce his name, I look up to see his unique eyes with blue on the inside part, and green encircling the blue.
"I missed you sis. You have gone through so much. I wish I could give you a hug. I'm glad your al-."
"Is dad alive?" I interrupted. There was a sudden weight in the room that I hoped would fly away.
"He got shot through his heart three times and immediately died." I could hear the silence burn inside both our throats after what he just said. I could hear both our tears drop not to the floor, but through this suffocation we hope dad could hear. Its the sound of a daughter finding out his father, not only died, but got murdered.
My head suddenly felt complete numbness and my thoughts became scattered like sand particles. My mind flooded with black. Then I saw it, my dad getting murdered. I saw blood jump out of my fathers chest. I saw his eyes rolling back. I heard the words he said.
"I love you Daisia." Out of all the kids, he chose my name to present as his very last word. I felt electricity shock up my back, and I flung up out of the gurney with tears fogging my eyes.
"What happened? You were coughing up white foam and your eyes started to roll back!"
'I saw it."
'Dad. I saw him get killed." He stepped close to me and flung his muscular, cozy arms around me. I felt sad, but comforted. I was dead, but alive. And I dreaded it. I dreaded every fucking moment.
The next day I woke up in this room with light colored oak cabin walls. The scent of lavender eased my sudden headache I woke up with. I look down over my bed to see my brother, kneeling before an alter in the front of the room, praying. I didn't want to bother him, but I felt a sudden urge to pray to. Is there hope? There wasn't hope for Dad.